Hand on my Heart for Veterans

"Mella" and Ray Huntley, early 1960s

I am from a proud family of servicemen.  My dad and his 8 brothers all were members of the Armed Forces, 8 Navy men and one proud Marine. They fought in World War 2, the Korean Conflict and Vietnam.  I have been to more military funerals than civilian ones.  I was born patriotic.

I still put my hand on my heart when I say the Pledge of Allegiance or when the National Anthems plays, even at ball games.  I notice that quite often, there are very few people around me who have their hand on their heart or sing along to our National Anthem.  I do not judge them.

You see, I'm a student of history.  If nothing else, one thing has been imprinted on my mind through this course of study:  War is a part of history and likely will always continue to be a part.  War is the way in which nations break apart, form, and stay strong; war provides both revolution and resolution.   The United States is no exception.  Not all our fights have been proud ones but those who serve do not make such decisions.  I hate the necessity of war and I love the warriors.

Great Uncle "Pat" Huntley - WW 1

The men and women of our Armed Forces usually sign on when they are barely old enough to vote and too young to drink.  The veterans of our wars are rarely politicians or even people of influence.  They are the boys and girls who lived on my street and yours; they are the kids I played in the park with, the cousins I admired, and the Dad and Uncles I adored.

I am grateful for those who have the fortitude to fight for the democratic ideal; for those who risk life and limb to preserve my way of life and more importantly, my liberty.  I know that many of you have suffered terrible consequences for your service; you have lost lovers or limbs; sacrificed your long term health, or given your lives.  This is a steep price to pay and I want you to know, it was not wasted on me.

This morning I rose early and hung out my flag.  All day today as I go about my ordinary life and you go about yours, please know I am thinking of you, and I thank you.  I am grateful every day for your gift of service to me and my family.  I know that freedom isn't free and I thank you for paying my toll.  God bless you.

[PS - If you want to get to the heart of the Pledge of Allegiance, click my link in the second paragraph for a timeless essay from the old comedian, Red Skelton.]

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Heroes Proved

My sessions of vivid dreaming have returned with the cooler evenings;  I think the extremely hot summer nights cooked the dreams right out of me.  Last night I dreamed of a knock on the door and an unfamiliar person.  Since we have only a peephole and no window, I couldn't clearly see the person.  I could only tell it was a child, male and not one I quickly recognized.  Because I was busy with other things, I decided not to answer the door to the child whom I assumed was selling things.  Yet he kept knocking.  So insistent was he with his rapping at the door that I looked again and this time could make out a dad and younger sibling nearby.  I surrendered.

The boy at the door was dressed in dark green and wearing a kufi.  His father, apologetic, explained to me that the child was supporting the effort in Kandahar.  Using his own money, he had gone to Walgreens and purchased a number of watches.  He was reselling the watches for donations.  The tears immediately started rolling down my face as I dug through my purse and fished out a $20.  As he handed me the watch I could see that he had scotch taped it to a piece of paper with a lot of childish writing on it.  The dad asked, "Are you all right ma'am?"

Through my tears I replied, "Yes.  It's just the war.  So much tragedy."

Then I woke up, as bolt upright as if a bell had rung.  Perhaps it had.

Lately I cannot stop thinking about the men and women of our armed forces.  Maybe it is because for the first time, I have sons.  I grew up in the era of the Vietnam War draft.

I am grateful for those who, at great personal cost, serve our country. Regardless of the controversial nature of wars, those who fought and those who now fight are heroes.  I find myself singing over and over the hundred year old hymn by Katherine Lee Bates, "America the Beautiful." All the verses are compelling but the third verse keeps bringing me to tears:

 

O beautiful for heroes prov'd

In liberating strife,

Who more than self their country lov'd,

And mercy more than life.

America! America!

May God thy gold refine

Till all success be nobleness,

And ev'ry gain divine.

Ponderings of a Patriot

Happy Independence Day!  It's a day for picnics, parades and patriotism. I am grateful to be an American and proud to be a patriot. 

I am grateful for the freedom I enjoy as a result of the spilled blood of countless heroes, most of whom will never be celebrated with medals or parades.  I am aware every day that my freedoms were not free, and I mean to make the most of them.  I am inspired by the fact that even though as a nation we have made some mistakes, we continue to strive for the freedom and equality of all our citizens.  We have a lot to be proud of . . . and a lot of work to do.  This work is not the job of politicians, it is the responsibility of every citizen.

The world is changing.  New powers are emerging.  How will we continue our proud traditions of freedom and democracy?  What is my role in this changing landscape? 

Today my role is to teach my children of our nation's history to ensure it is not repeated.  It is my job to fly my flag and remind my neighbors that it is indeed a land worth fighting for.  It is my responsibility to protect the rights and freedoms of all whose paths cross mine.  It is up to me to exercise my considerable rights so they are not lost; I will vote, I will serve on juries, I will celebrate my religious freedom.  I will honor and learn about the tapestry of cultures that makes up our country and respect our differences.  Perhaps most importantly, I will not take for granted that as a woman, I enjoy equal rights that many other women in the world only dream of: the right to be educated, to vote, to worship (or not) as I choose, to dress as I please, even to drive a car. 

On my favorite television show, Sunday Morning, British Prime Minister Tony Blair delivered an essay on, of all things, American Independence Day.  A couple of phrases stood out to me:
". . .the circumstances of independence are part of what makes America the great and proud nation it is today. And what gives nobility to the American character.
. . .It is a devotion to the American ideal that at a certain point transcends class, race, religion or upbringing.
That ideal is about values, freedom, the rule of law, democracy. " 
[Click on the words "Tony Blair" to see the essay for yourself.] 

I agree, Mr. Blair.  That "American ideal" has created my reality.  I will do my part to carry it forward.

Photo credit:  Graphics Fairy